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From: Dave Aitel <aiteld@rpi.edu>
Subject: The Birth of a Gay Slut
Author comment ------
could you post this to rec.arts.erotica too if you get a chance?
(I assume you will automatically post it to a.s.s?)
-dave
------ end comment
Moderator comment ------
I could crosspost this to r.a.e, I am wary of doing so out of curtesy
to Michael Handler who is the moderator, however negligent recently,
of that group. Last time I approved a posting to that group (over a
year ago) I got back a "If anyone else had done that, we'd get
medieval on their ass" note. (It was actually fairly friendly.) I
choose to revive a.s.s.m as being simpler than taking over r.a.e
moderation.
------ end comment
The Birth of a Gay Slut (~3536 words)
Copyright (all rights reserved) by Dave Aitel Jan 31, 1997
**********************************************************************
Permission Granted to Distribute Electronically in a NON PROFIT way
(such as Usenet) or to make personal archives or to post on the web in
this unaltered state. I was trying to sell this story and still might
want to give it a try.
Thanks to the Erotica Writers List for critiques and comments and to
all the owners of Adult BBS's that let me on when I was 12 so I could
begin writing for them (and thanks to all the authors that I read). :>
I would welcome any critiques, thank you notes, "this got me off"
notes, spam, invitations, hate mail, typos, stone tablets, guitar
tabulature, incantations, reviews, or revalations. These should be
sent to "aiteld@rpi.edu" since odds are I don't get the newsgroup you
plan to post them on.
Note, as you may have noticed from the title, this is an erotic,
explicit, M/M piece that contains words you might not be able to hear
or see in Bible class. Read no futher if this is illegal or offensive
to you.
More stuff, even more literary stuff, is available at
http://www.rpi.edu/~aiteld/ (home of the Green Bison Quarterly and
HeteroTextual e-zines)
Oh, and a special "f*ck you" for Senator Exon and the rest of his CDA
pushing, crack smoking, 1st Amendment burning, right wing head cases.
And now:
********************************************************************
The Birth of a Gay Slut (~3536 words)
Technically I was born 21 years before this story begins, but let's
not quibble the details, ok? I graduated from college three days
after my twenty first birthday. Two weeks later I was in Maryland,
with a programming job and nothing to do. One of the things I
promised myself was that on my twenty first birthday I was going to
try gay sex. I surfed online to find a recent manual on safe sex and
anonymously asked a newsgroup where a good local club was and the
basics of how not to be a dumbass.
Friday night I shaved, got dressed up (I have horrible fashion sense -
a beige jacket over white tee-shirt - but a lack of regard for strange
looks so it works out) and maneuvered the old but still ticking (loudly
too) Camry to the parking lot of "Stardust" which had a very modest
sign despite the name.
I sat down to a club filled entirely with men. It hit the same way
leaving my cloister of an engineering school for the real world let me
know again how many women there WERE. Even prepared, it's a physical
shock. When the bartender asked, I ordered a two dollar sprite and
scanned the crowd. A man next to me, tall, dark and drunk and not
at all my type, turned to me and said loudly enough to be heard over the
bar-noise, "Sprite? That's not a real man's drink!" He held up his
Heiniken to demonstrate.
I looked him in the eyes, gave him my best "you're an asshole" smile,
paused just long enough so that it was still obviously intentional and
said just as loudly, "Real men's drinks are outlawed in public." He
had a good laugh and turned to his stereotypical friend.
Stereotypical for a frat boy, at least. I'm not a big fan of
fraternities in any context. Frat boys really Chap My Ass, and not in
a good way.
Two minutes later, another Sprite landed in front of me and someone
new took the place to the other side of me. "Hi," He said.
"Hi back." I said and extended my hand. "My name's Dave."
"Rick," he said. He had a broad smile and a clean cut, "I'm white and
upper-middle-class" face. Normally I would stay away from his type as
they tend to be arrogant, pretentious, and boring. But I guess I have
to explain a bit about my standards.
I'm not a cute guy. Ok, I can be a cute guy, but I'd never know it
because my image of cute is an extremely muscular (huge, let's say),
pale to light brown skinned, blonde, cut and clean and fresh smelling
man. I want the picture perfect yuppy porn god who surfs in his spare
time. It's too bad too because I don't have too many chips to lay on
the table.
See, I'm more your average pedophile's dream. I still get carded
going to R rated movies. I'm slim, despite working out CONSTANTLY all
last semester, about 130 pounds, 5' 10", Peruvian little guy with
glasses when I'm not wearing contacts who PROGRAMS for all the
disastrously unsexy things of a living. But I've seen ads for 250
pound women in the classifieds section so I'm willing to bet on the
odds. Hope is a good thing. And there hope was, buying me a Sprite,
of all things.
"Actually," Rick said, "It's illegal in pretty much every state pretty
much everywhere. It's 20 years in Maryland for a blowjob and an extra
10 for anal sex."
"Yeah," I said, as if considering, "that could be a pretty good deal."
We laughed. He had a deep, really sexy laugh. It's weird to think
about someone's laugh being sexy while you redefine what sexy is.
Weird but cool.
"Where are you from?" he said, smiling at his own trite come on line.
I liked the idea that I knew what he was smiling about.
"Well," I started, took a sip to quell the nervousness, "I lived 17
years in Fairfax, Virginia, got kicked out at 18, went to college on
scholarships near Albany for three years, graduated early and came to
program for eight hours a day making ridiculous amounts of money doing
something I'd do as a hobby anyways."
"Yeah? I'm currently working as a software engineer doing
consulting," he said. "Who do you work for?"
"Lockheed." I said, "Although with the awesome quality management
they've got, I've started calling them 'lock-heads'" It wasn't funny
but he laughed. We were in a good mood and it was getting better. We
joked and exchanged sordid and silly histories.
About the time we started talking about sex, and past relationships,
and how Microsoft was obviously the spawn of something awful and we
KNEW JUST what it was, I noticed the bulge in his pants, caught him
catching me looking, and let my hand rest almost too lightly to feel
against his knee. It's a long sentence, but it was a very long
moment, believe me.
Two sentences later I found myself agreeing to follow him to his
apartment and watch this computer rendered video he'd made himself.
His house fucking ruled. He had the kind of apartment that screamed,
"I make 100 dollars an hour and have no children." You could talk to
the CD player and lights and even the washing machine. You can tell
I'm a techie because electronics turn me on.
We stopped wandering around the house after a while, in our
electronics guy-daze, and settled into the couch to watch the video.
It was actually pretty good, foamy animal creatures and very
picturesque body builder type guys moving to a deep beat - "Toy Story"
does some really good pot and watches gay porn. I had to force
myself to stop analyzing the distance between us constantly. I found I
was shifting around a lot.
He turned to me, the blonde hair on the back of his hand just barely
visible in the dim light, but I caught myself staring briefly as he
let it rest on my shoulder. My shoulder trembled.
"You're nervous." he said. He looked concerned and confident at the
same time. It hit me how stunningly handsome he was, and how much I
wanted to kiss the side of his face.
"Yes," I said, "I'm nervous because this is my very first time and
although I've been planning this for a while, I never actually thought
it would be laying it's hand on my shoulder and I'd want it to fuck me
so badly." I grinned, to break the spell, and to ease the honesty to a
joking level. It's one of those things I do.
He grinned back. "A first, huh?"
"Yeah," I said, and lifted my hand up to trace his palm with my
finger, slowly lifting my eyes from the contact to meet his. When
I get nervous - I shake. By this I mean I could be confused for an
epileptic at longer range, but he didn't mention it, and to cover, I
moved closer to him. Just an inch, just enough to have his smell pass
through me.
Then he kissed me. I can't say how it was different from when I'm
normally ("normally" meant "with female" then) kissed. Let's just say
that when he was done, my hands were at his neck and chin and I was
kissing the side of his face and moving down to the crook of his neck
to inhale his scent. I ran my tongue across the thick muscles which
trembled at my touch, up the tender but slightly prickly neck to his
lips and then I kissed him. They say taste is mostly made of smell,
but at that point smell and taste and the feel of his hands on my
waist and the physical presence he had a few inches away had melded
and I was so hard my jeans were hurting enough that I had to squirm
around to fix it. He gave a grin at that, so either he found it
amusing, or he was content in general. Either way was fine by me.
He had unbuttoned my shirt by this time, and I was starting to fumble
with his. I'm naturally clumsy with buttons, so I was half naked by
the time he took his off and with it the tee shirt underneath. He was
muscled perfectly. Every smooth curve of him was male perfection with
a little added on to exaggerate the effect. His skin was an ivory
coversheet to the most beautiful statue in the world. I found myself
tracing my tongue across every surface, on top of him like a cat while
he lay back with a happy and very smug smile. When my mouth had
reached his nipples, I gave them quick flicks while lightly tracing
his thigh with my hand. I could feel the heat from his cock through
his jeans. It was playful. It was exciting. It was new. And it was
awesome.
After teasing him for a while I moved my hand to his belt and undid
his pants. Right before I reached to pull him out of his underwear he
sat up. "Let's get you naked first." He said with a wild grin and
then was on top of me, quickly removing the offending garment. He
took my underwear off with a flourish, revealing all seven and a half
inches of me sticking out hard as a steel bar but much, much warmer.
"Very nice," he said, running his hand over my body with an approving
little lick of his pink tongue over his white teeth. I felt a
little like a high performance horse getting patted to feel the
muscle. My hands had found places on his pecs, running up and down
his chest lightly and steadily. He stood up and shucked his jeans.
"C'mon," he said, "last one in the shower is a Republican!" I beat
him, but not by much. His warm and large hand was on my ass as I
stepped in.
We kissed for a while before he even turned the water on. For another
long while we kissed while we ran soap over each other's skin. I
could feel his balls against my cock, his cock against my stomach, his
hard leg between mine, holding me open to him. I was a little too
nervous to actually fondle his cock with my hand. I think he felt it
and waited for me to get comfortable with the idea before I finally
ran my slick hand under him to his balls, which I fondled for a while
before moving up to gently touch his hard dick. He kissed me firmly
while I did, pressing me against him. My dick was actually larger
than his, which was a pale white and red, with the veins much easier
to see than mine are.
Watching Rick pulse made my heart race.
He broke the kiss with his hand around my cock. I'd been so wrapped up
in his large dick, I hadn't noticed he had put it there. "I want to
wash you first," He said. "Turn around." I did and he hugged me from
behind, his huge body against mine, his strong arms around my chest.
I didn't so much follow an order as an instinct as I bent over, my
hands resting on the shower edge. He folded with me, and I was
worried for a second that he was going to fuck me there and then,
without a condom, but he held me that way, savoring the
moment.
Then he took one arm from around me and got more soap on it. I could
feel his firm and very male stomach muscles rippling against my back
and I closed my eyes, the drum of the water soothing me. The tip of
one of his fingers gently ran down the crack in my ass. I have a very
sensitive ass, especially when I'm not being tickled. This was
wonderfully not tickling. I squirmed though, but not away from him,
more encouraging his explorations to the sensitive parts. He ran his
finger down to my balls, and then back up, forcing my cheeks apart.
He massaged my anus for a while with a slow circular motion that was
oddly soothing. Maybe it was the warmth of his form behind me, the
safety of one arm supporting me, but I thrust my ass back to meet his
massage, forcing his finger into me. He had thick fingers. At least,
it felt thick, moving back and forth in me slowly working me around in
circles. It felt good to be worked, to be slowly and confidently
prepared to be fucked. I guess he was cleaning me too, but I wasn't
concentrating on that.
"Theoretically," he said softly as he tongued my ear, "I'm cleaning
you because you didn't know you were supposed to." (Actually I had)
"But, in reality, I just enjoy taking your ass with my fingers." I gave
a small whimper of submission, gyrating on his finger as his other
hand massaged my nipple. His tongue was busy with my neck. He got
another finger into me, and then another and was soon pumping them in
and out to a steady rhythm as I breathed harder and harder. I could
feel his breath becoming deep and desperate as well, and his crotch
thrust against me, his cock banging my thigh obscenely.
He stood me up with a finger still inside me, and then washed off his
hand and gave me a deep kiss. We turned the water off and got out and
as I began to towel him, I decided I was much to turned on to get cold
from only water. I dropped to my knees and kissed his feet, then his
ankles, then his strong calves, his tight thighs, the notch of his
hips. I spent a long time tonguing the inside of his thighs, before
finally moving to his large balls and giving them little licks before
sucking them into my mouth. His hands were tight in my hair by this
time. His eyes were closed. I let him guide me to his cock and took
it in my mouth agonizingly slowly. I'm sure I wanted it as badly as
he did. The taste was unlike anything I could describe, more like
having him in my brain, rolling inside me like the curls of a pinwheel,
spinning my desire.
I only had to suck for a few minutes, my lessons carefully learned
from what my girlfriends had done with me. I swallowed his cum,
despite my forebrain's dire warnings of either drowning or disease.
Forebrains were meant to be ignored in ignoramuses like me. We're
happier that way.
I kept my mouth on his cock as it softened, then gave one final lick
to his balls and stood up with my hand on his tight ass.
"I'm amazed I can still stand," Rick said. "You, on the other hand, can
stand perfectly fine, it looks like. His hand went to my cock and began
stroking. He rubbed his own messy and still slightly inflated cock on
mine and the combination of saliva and cum gave his rubbing the power
to crumble me into his arms, or his spare arm at least. I couldn't
kiss him; I was too wrapped up in my own explosive feelings, which he
let subside several times before having me give the most tremendous
orgasm of my life against his leg.
Later we retired to the bedroom. I wrestled him to his back and began
to tease him with my tongue. You don't get many chances to lick
Adonis's armpits and so I did, along with the rest of him. By "rest
of him" I mean ALL of the rest of him. I went slowly and did a good
job. Soon he was back to raging hardness, and his breath was coming
quickly again. His finger was slowly rubbing my anus by that time,
and I knew what was coming when he pushed me over onto all fours and
reached in the drawer.
I felt him kneel over me, his thighs against mine, his stomach against
my back. I let my head rest on the bed and watched underneath as he
rolled the condom on and greased it up. The sight of his hand
massaging lubricant onto his cock caused me to thrust against his
slightly.
"I want to leave you hanging for a while," he whispered huskily, his
fingers quickly redoing the thorough job they had done in the shower.
I was thrusting against him almost demanding, small moans coming
directly from my chest and escaping my mouth in thick rasps.
Rick knelt back on the bed and pulled me with him. His hand
adjusted his cock so that my sitting down on his thighs would impale
me. But now it wasn't something I was afraid of, it was something I
dearly wanted! I eased down on him with hardly any pain at all, and
he held me there with both arms as I trembled and sighed against him.
He's inside me! My mind screamed its pleasure and I'm sure some of
that escaped into the bedroom along with his groans. He didn't
thrust. He actually held me down until he thought I was ready to
begin moving up and down on his cock supported only by my thighs and
my rising crescendo of lust.
His hands on my chest supported and guided me as I impaled myself on
his cock slowly over and over again. My head rested on his shoulder
as I fucked myself on his huge cock. The muscles in his body were
bowstring tight and he was loud with his pleasure at my movements.
The loudness was awesome. It helped me let go of whatever inhibitions
were left while I thrust as hard as I could down on another man's
cock.
I let one hand wander back to where we joined to feel him moving
in and out of me. "Fuck me," I said.
So he did. I found myself shoved face into the mattress, legs spread
as he pounded his huge body into my ass. The impact of his hips was
leaving bruises I'm sure, but I didn't care, I thrust back with him,
adopted his rhythm, and let the hot glow from his fucking drive me
wild. It lasted a quite long time, but ended as I was beginning
to feel the start of an orgasm build up. He gave three terrifically
powerful thrusts and then his cock jerked with tiny beautiful spasms,
like the coughs of a bird and then he was still. I missed it when he
pulled his cock out and took the condom off. I felt ecstatically used.
I felt empty. I felt fucked and maniacally wonderful all at once.
"Rick," I said as I kissed him, "That. Was. Amazing!"
Also amazing was that horny as I was, the fucking had tired me out so
much I fell asleep on his shoulder nearly right away. I guess I'm not
as romantic as I could be.
I woke up to the sun in the window and the idea that I had to _do_
something. I remembered what it was when I saw his thick cock resting
on his thigh, curved and soft and all male wonderful. I got hard at
the sight, and quickly moved down to where I could take his beautiful
dick in my mouth. He was soon awake , and I gave him the longest,
best morning blowjob I could. After swallowing his spunk, he moved
down on me, and I was accepted into his mouth with nary a "good
morning" to spare.
Having Rick go down on me was to having a girlfriend go down on me the
way firing a firing a tank cannon was to firing an air gun. It lasted
for at least twenty minutes and I was in squirming ecstasy the entire
time. When I finally did come, I was out of breath for what seemed
like ages. The room actually spun around for a while before I came
back to earth and could kiss him. He had grown a little fuzz which
was also a nice new sensation to enjoy until we both had to pee. I
held his ass and cock while he peed, and he held mine. It was the
romance of the perfect ass. "All I can think when I look at that tool
of yours is that it fucked me." I said, and he kissed me in answer.
We hung out for the morning, a bit worn out, and then he gave me a
goodbye kiss at the door, and I drove my battered car home. The taste
of his cum is something I've never forgotten though. Someday I'll
have to thank him again for such a wonderful deflowering.
End "The Birth of a Gay Slut (Draft 1)"
Copyright (all rights reserved) by Dave Aitel Jan 31, 1997
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